I've been down this road before. I've been faced with insurmountable odds before. I overcame, then conquered. But what about this time? I can't see myself taking control of the situation at hand. This isn't about a HWA match. This is life. This is about some freak, ready to kill Toya and James, to prove a point to me. Some twisted f**k looking to beat Ronnie McNeil. This is about the path I made for myself.
So I'm famous... Would any of you like to take a turn at living a day in my life? I'd doubt anyone would last. The pressures, the stress, the temptations. I bet everyone wishes they could be where I've been. See what I saw. JEALOUSY is a root of evil. It drives a stable man to the brink of insanity. I've had life's thrown before my face. Given the chance to correct the situation, or simply ignore it. What would anyone else do? I imagine they wouldn't know. Bringing them to my complex decision.
Save them or leave them. Hard decision. Maybe not for the normal person, but then again, when have i ever been normal. I'm extravagant to say the least.
I've been told that I'm a story teller. Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't. But I have more than a story to tell this time. Something that will take more than one sitting to tell. This is the story of friendships, love, hate, and stabbing in the back. This is a story about the industry, about life in general, and about success. This is the story that I NEED to tell. I hope you all will listen.
On top of all the stresses dealing with the abductions, I have to face a man who will be gunning for me, or will be mentally a thousand miles from the arena. That's not my concern. I have my own life issues to deal with, and I have plans in motion that will stay on schedule.
But it makes me wonder, to what extent is someone willing to go to surpass me? It seems like everyone is riding my dick nowadays. I guess it comes with being the best eh?
I've been told that I'm a story teller. Maybe it's true, maybe it isn't. But I have more than a story to tell this time. Something that will take more than one sitting to tell. This is the story of friendships, love, hate, and stabbing in the back. This is a story about the industry, about life in general, and about success. This is the story that I NEED to tell. I hope you all will listen. This is a journey through my mind.
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Bullets buried in to the wooden table he hid behind. Shots flying by his head as he barely remained out of the way. It wasn't supposed to go this way. The plans had seemed so much different on paper. Life always had some sort of hurdle to throw in my way. God's way of getting a good laugh from above. f**k god, I believed in no such thing.
"Put down the weapon!! This is your last chance. You're cornered, no where to go! Come out with your hands up, and you might make it out of this alive." the detective screamed at me.
Good idea. Come out with my hands up? So I could watch myself take a couple rounds to the chest? Nah, I wouldn't be leaving this without a fight.
"Sure thing." I screamed back as I unloaded half a clip on him. Bullets sprayed in to his general direction. I could hear glass shattering, and the impact of the bullets hitting the wooden walls.
I leaned my back against the table, and looked to the ceiling. So much for God I thought. If I was religious I probably would have been praying at this point. But I knew there wasn't a point. I had made a bargain with the devil himself. Power, wealth, and prestige.
The three things that could drive any man over the edge.
The detective fired off three more rounds as I prepared to shoot. I could hear him reloading his gun as I knelt up, peeking over the table. One good shot was all I needed.
Right between the eyes. I was a hell of a shot. But guns were meaningless to me; I got enjoyment out of using my bare hands. The feeling of choking the life out of someone was very rewarding. I hoped that I could wound him, then watch him die by my hands.
I saw the detective shuffle around as I aimed. Then there was a loud bang. Pain exploded in my chest as I whirled around to lean my back against the table. I looked to see a second detective holding a gun. Damnit, I should have been smarter. The f**king back door. I forgot about that. Figures shit would turn out like this. Stabbed in my back, again. So much for dealing with the devil, eh? I watched myself bleed on my Armani jeans as I slowly slipped in and out of consciousness. Hopefully there wouldn't be any dreams. I f**king hated dreams.
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What an awful spot to begin this nightmare. I practically gave it away. This begins long before. It begins with a broken man, desperate for an easy fix to his depressing life. A man who would risk anything and everything, to live a life of high regards. This is about a hate-filled being, looking for a reason to destroy what is beautiful. This is where it begins. This is the journey through the mind of a mad man.
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November 30th, 2010
Damn it was cold. Even for Alabama, this fall had been awful. Storm after storm, it never seemed like it would end. I wasn't a huge fan of the wet weather, it bothered me to no end. I continued to walk down the cold, wet streets of Ensley; Hard Knock Central as some called it. I was looking for a certain place. I found it on my right and walked in.
The clouds of smoke filled my lungs as I made my way to the bartender. It was a good sized place, filled with a bunch of tables, booths, and billiard tables. Just my kind of place. I walked to the bar and took a seat on one of the empty stools. The bartender was an overweight biker. A tough guy to say the least. I was growing used to the atmosphere though. These kinds of places beat a geeky coffee house any day.
"What can I get you?" The bartender asked. I looked around behind him, eyeing the alcohol bottles, decided on a decent drink.
"Whiskey, straight up. Actually, bring me three of them. It was a rough day." I replied. Working my nine to five shift at the lawyers office was growing old. Sure I was making plenty of money, but it just seemed so redundant, and played out. Seemed like every case was the same. Murders, rape, arson. You know, the evil deeds of society. I had spent who knows how many hours working with scumbags. I wouldn't had been surprised if it had rubbed off on me.
The fat man returned with my request, and laid them in front of me. He then turned his back to me and finished wiping down some of the glasses. I don't think he liked my type. Probably thought I was too high class to be at a place like this; I disagreed. Screw the stereotypes. Sure I was GQ on the outside, but inside, I was just like every other guy in the bar. I then reached in to the pocket on the interior lining of my Gucci suit coat, and pulled out a Cuban cigar. My favorite. f**k cigarettes, I still wanted to breathe right.
I lit the cigarette and began watching everyone in the bar. A couple guys were having their own conversations. I thought I heard something about the Auburn Tigers. Local die-hard fans. They were probably fags for all I knew. Hey it wasn't my life. I looked to my right to see a pair of couples playing pool against one another. They were awful. I should've probably stepped in and started hustling, but I was willing to save it for another day. Besides, my life was about to change five seconds from then.
"Hi there." The soft voice whispered in my ear. Sounded like the voice of an angel. I was hoping she had the body to match. I turned my head to face the direction the voice had come from. There in front of me stood a blonde bombshell. Amazing face, rack, butt. I'd say she was perfect if I could. She lightly licked her full lips, as I stared in to her eyes. She had very different eyes. They almost seemed as if they had a radiant glow to them.
"Hey, first time in here?" I responded as I pulled out the seat beside me, allowing her to sit. She slowly bent over to sit, allowing me a quick glace at her tight body. She was well dressed with a tight fitting designer coat, with matching jacket.
"No, regular customer." She responded, turning to the bartender. "Rum and coke, please." She turned back to me. "How about you? Haven't seen you here before."
"A couple times here and there." I said as I finished my second glass of whiskey. I turned toward her again. "You have a name?"
"Eva." She replied. "We can discuss this over a game of billiards. You a gambling man?" She asked, staring at me with her odd eyes.
"Depends on the bet." I said, amazed by the sensation overcoming me as I continued to stare at her.
"How about a deal with the devil?" She said, as she pulled me by the hand to the closest pool table. Little did I know that this woman was going to change my life as I knew it.
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Outside of the ring, Butch Parker, I feel for you. You sacrificed everything that you stood for to save your family...but that is the price you pay for dealing with the devious little man that is Senester. You only saw a small piece of what depths he's capable of going to in order to get what he wants. He's already turned against you once more, and all is back to the way it was. You have your family, and you knew the cost of making that so, just like I knew the cost behind the things I did while I held residence in the North Hall of those towers to get the things that I wanted. And while I don't know if you would repeat the actions you took, I know that I would do it again. The payoff was more than worth it. Then again, I didn't have the clean cut, "holier than thou" good guy persona you had.
And now, we shall cross paths once more. Doesn't matter who beat who. Doesn't matter who did what. All that matters is the next ring of the bell, the next lockup, the next slam, and the next glimpse of the Flashing Lights. What is coming down the line is bigger than one single match between me and you. What's coming down the line will be a gamechanger in HWA for the present and the future. What's coming for HWA in the near future is all about business. Phoenixes rising from their own ashes, merging together to make a combination that will be untouchable. Kindred spirits, not mere men looking to join forces. This thing is bigger than you, bigger than me, bigger than our "champ", whom I'll never be convinced is worthy of his spot, and bigger than the worthless AC James, who like the champ, has never been able to beat me in the ring. I do hope that you will have cleared your mind by the time Havoc comes around, because I want no excuses from you or anyone else when I get this win. And I'm going to get it.
Senester...you got your piece of flesh putting my All-Star title on Buff. But you know the truth...I got over on you. I beat the master in the most basic of mind games, only choosing to let you in on the truth because I wanted you to know. BST was only the beginning Senester. There's much more in store for you...
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